Thursday, January 24, 2008

FACIAL HAIR

I see from the comments to a recent post that some of my Esteemed Readers have noticed the recently-birthed excrescence of fuzz on my Upper Lip.

Yes, Elisson is now sporting a Pencil-Thin Moustache.

My Grandpa Abe wore a pencil-thin moustache. I remember watching him shave, back in my Snot-Nose Days, and being amazed at how he kept that baby trimmed so neatly. It gave him a certain amount of Movie-Star Brio. Well, it won’t be doing that for me, but it provides a certain amount of personal amusement...and I’m all about the amusement.

How long it’ll remain is anybody’s guess. I’ve been going clean-shaven for the past five years, and I have gotten used to scraping my entire face, without having to worry about trimming around any hairy obstacles. She Who Must Be Obeyed, no doubt, will be the final arbiter on the question of whether it stays or goes.

But the Moustache and I have had a long history together...as I once documented on this very site.

How long? Well, I grew my first moustache when I was a senior in high school...thirty-eight years ago, if anyone gives a Rat’s Ass. And I kept that lip covered, more or less continuously, for the next 32 years. The sole exception was the year Elder Daughter (then, Only Daughter) was born. I shaved it off shortly after she arrived and grew it back a year later, where it stayed (sometimes accompanied by a beard) until November, 2002.

Here’s the evidence, from the Pile o’ Expired Passports:

Passport photos from (left to right) 1978, 1984, and 1993.

The ’stache, in all its Brushy Glory, is there in all of these pictures. That, and a lot more hair up top. But that’s another story.